


Milk & Honey

by themostmarvelousimagines



Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Lord of the Rings (Movies)
Genre: F/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Slow Build
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-24
Updated: 2018-02-24
Packaged: 2019-03-23 08:34:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,690
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13783737
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/themostmarvelousimagines/pseuds/themostmarvelousimagines
Summary: The reader is half human, half elf, enchanted by Gandalf to appear more human so that she may join Thorin Oakenshield's company in reclaiming Erebor.





	Milk & Honey

**Author's Note:**

> Does anyone still read fics for the Hobbit?? I guess I'll find out lmao  
> There's a LOT in this series that I have outlined, so expect a lot of story!

The late afternoon sun began to set much faster than anyone had expected. Skies of gold and amber quickly turned dark and cold seemingly without warning, the air becoming cooler almost immediately. Or, maybe none of you were paying attention. To be fair, Dwarves can be very distracting.

Camp was set up as soon as possible; it was far too dangerous to continue traveling at night. After camp came supper, and after supper came either one of two things: stories, or sleep. Some of the Dwarves would often stay awake, conversing among themselves, joking and talking of times long since passed. Other nights, when everyone was much too tired, nearly everyone would pass out right after they ate.

But _only_ after they ate. They were Dwarves, after all.

You always found it strange, the fact that you ended up on a quest to reclaim Erebor with a bunch of Dwarves, a Hobbit, and a wizard. It was Gandalf’s idea, of course, to bring you along. Being a life-long friend of yours, he easily convinced the company that you would be an excellent addition to the group. It took time, but the others eventually warmed up to you.

The trouble was, it took more than just some convincing to really get you into the company. It also took a bit of enchanting on Gandalf’s part, as well as reassurance that, despite your Elven ancestry, the Dwarves would like you all the same. Especially since they were under the impression you were a full-blooded human. Even being half-elf was strictly off limits for the Dwarves in terms of what they considered trustworthy.

At the end of the day, you felt closer to your human heritage, anyway. You never knew your father and your mother was the only one who raised you. She was honest with you, of course, when you inevitably questioned why you had pointed ears and she did not. Your father, the Elven half of your blood, was never told you existed. Because of this, you could never resent him for not being in your life, though you wanted to.

Gandalf had been a close friend of your mother’s for quite some time, so he became the father figure you were in need of as a child. You could vividly recall summer nights spent watching his fireworks dance across the sky, or the stories he told around the fire place. Your favorite among those stories, much to Gandalf’s surprise, was the story of the fall of Erebor. What child didn’t love a tale about a dragon?

And so, when Gandalf came to you years after your mother’s passing, asking for you to join him in helping the Dwarves take back their home, you agreed in a heartbeat. Not only were you tired of spending your days traveling from village to village doing business with strangers and hunting to your hearts content, but to be a part of one of your favorite childhood stories? That truly was an honor.

Tonight, it seemed, only a few members of the company stayed awake long enough to strike up a conversation.

As the Dwarves settled into their bed rolls, you checked the perimeter for the umpteenth time, just to be sure. All ponies were accounted for, all Dwarves, Hobbits, and Wizards safe and fed; everything was as it should have been. As you glanced around the camp- again- you spotted Thorin standing away from the group, leaning against a boulder and staring wistfully into the night.

So dramatic, you thought. Yet so handsome.

“Y/N,” Kili said, approaching you. He was holding his head high, shoulders squared and a confident smirk on his face.

“Hello, Kili,” you replied, offering a small smile. “What do you need?”

“I was just thinking,” he said, “I noticed that you get quite cold at night.”

Raising an eyebrow, you put your hands on your hips and half smiled. “Have you?”

“I have,” he went on with poise, “I was only thinking that, if you should find yourself feeling too cold, my arms are always open to you. Dwarves create quite a bit of heat, you know.”

You looked briefly behind Kili to see the other Dwarves shaking their heads, rolling their eyes, or sleeping. Turning your attention back to the young Dwarf, you took a deep breath and prepared yourself for what was to come.

“While I appreciate the offer,” you said sweetly, “I do not get cold at night.”

Kili blinked a few times, his cocky demeanor shifting. “You don’t?”

“I don’t,” you went on, “You see, I’ve experienced cold weather far worse than this. Many years ago, I found myself lost on a snow-covered mountain in a blizzard with no hope of rescue. Nearly lost all of my toes, almost starved to death, and was ambushed by a pack of Orcs. It was a whole ordeal. Would you like to know how I got out alive?”

He nodded.

You took a few steps forward until you were inches from his face, still smiling the sweetest smile you could muster. “I killed the Orcs first. Then I cut open one of their Wargs and climbed inside its stomach until the blizzard stopped. After that, I skinned the Warg and used its fur for warmth until I finally got off of the mountain.”

Kili’s eyes widened and he cleared his throat. His eyes darted around, his face had gone pale; you were certain he was about to be sick right then and there. Instead, he stuttered out an apology and scurried back to his bed. You chuckled to yourself triumphantly and returned to keeping watch of the camp.

“Is that true?” Bilbo asked, his curious voice traveling across the camp.

“What?” you asked, turning on your heel and crossing your arms loosely over your chest. “The story about the Warg?”

Bilbo nodded and you realized that now half of the company, Thorin included, was staring at you. Gandalf was sat in a corner smoking his pipe and smiling to himself, knowing fully well that the story was true. He was the one who’d eventually rescued you, after all. Pursing your lips, you shifted your weight and looked around at each of them, amusement bubbling inside of you. At last, that horrid, disgusting experience wielded some good.

“I wish I could say it wasn’t,” you answered, “It was not pleasant in the slightest.”

“Remind me not to mess with her,” Dwalin muttered to Bofur, loud enough for everyone to hear. Some of the Dwarves chuckled at this then went back about their business (or snoring). Dwalin gave you a playful wink, so as to make sure you knew he was only joking around. You smiled, rolled your eyes, and wandered over to the other side of the camp where Thorin was still staring into the distance.

You scanned the valley below and dug the heel of your boot into a patch of dead grass beneath you. The sun had set only a few hours before and the stars were shining bright as ever, like tiny gemstones glittering in deep, dark waters. A warm breeze disturbed the trees around you and you took in the air, breathing deeply and letting it fill your lungs. A dead, dry leaf landed in your hair and you quickly snatched it out, grumbling as it crumbled in your hair the second you touched it.

“Tell me you made that up,” Thorin said to your left, “Just to get Kili to leave you be?”

“I’m afraid not,” you replied, smiling and raking out the remainders of the leaf. “Not the first time I ever did it, either.”

“Now you’re trying to fool _me_ ,” Thorin said jokingly.

“I’m serious,” you said, jumping up to sit on the boulder opposite his. “It was something my mother taught me. If you’re freezing and are able find something big enough, kill it and climb inside.”

“Your mother taught you that?” Thorin asked, giving you a disbelieving look. “I’d have thought that was something your father or perhaps a brother had shown you.”

You shook your head and gave him a proud grin. “My mother taught me everything I know.”

Thorin laughed once, sighed, then removed his fur cloak and held it out to you. When you gave him a strange look, he rolled his eyes and stood, walking over and shoving it in front of you.

“Kili was right, Y/N. You’ll freeze to death if you’re not careful,” he said, “I doubt it’s as warm as a Warg’s intestines, but I’m sure it smells just the same. Perhaps it will bring you memories of your mother.”

Laughing gently, you took the cloak from Thorin, your hands brushing in the process. Even after the cloak was in your hands, his stayed close to yours, his calloused fingertips grazing your knuckles. “A strange sentiment, but thank you, Thorin.”

“Get some rest,” he said, glancing over his shoulder at the now snoring company. “I’ll take the first watch. You’ve lost enough sleep this week.”

You were about to protest, but the aching in your feet made you shut your mouth before you could speak. Your eyelids suddenly felt heavy and the sleep deprivation set in, your entire body beginning to feel like it was made of stone. Thorin met your gaze and your heart stopped in your chest momentarily. The breeze was blowing his graying hair just slightly, his blue eyes reflecting the star light perfectly.

Dramatic? Yes. Handsome? Double yes.

Swallowing hard you smiled and hopped off of the boulder, your knees nearly buckling when your feet hit the hard ground. You and Thorin said good night to one another and you sluggishly wandered back to your place near the fire. As you laid in your bed, you placed Thorin’s cloak over your upper half, and a distinct scent filled your nose. Luckily, it wasn’t Warg guts, but something much more forgiving; like musk mixed with the smell of the outdoors and tobacco.

Finding comfort in the warmth it brought you, your eyes shut and you were out in minutes, your head filled to the brim with thoughts of Thorin.


End file.
